


the ballad of your pain

by orphan_account



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Dark, I'm Bad At Tagging, Light Sadism, M/M, Poor Corvo, Sadism, kind of, the outsider is a sadistic shit thats it thats the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:40:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23123407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The horror in your screaming, stinging in your bleedingThe ache in your bone, the agony in your weepingTruly, his suffering a misfortune for such a pretty thingHis cries are the ballad that the night whales love to sing[the nights in coldridge prison really got to corvo, and the outsider loves to see his little crow cry]
Relationships: Corvo Attano/The Outsider (Dishonored)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	the ballad of your pain

**Author's Note:**

> its the first fic i wrote in years man. sorry if it seems wonky, unbeta-d and english is NOT my native language.
> 
> lets see how this turns out...

The howling winds of Dunwall in the winter were many but friendly.  
The harsh cold ate at Corvo Attano’s tender, once warm flesh. The man had nothing but stale, moldy bread and grits as his daily meal, losing the power he once had to struggle against the men who tortured him, took his empress and took his daughter.

And as if that wasn’t enough, being trapped in a prison cell with only a small opening in the ceiling as his only source of light in the harsh winter did not allow much sunlight into the room. The poor man was wrongfully accused of the murder of his empress -his former lover- and had to suffer the pain he so “brought onto himself”.

He was beaten daily and nightly, from the moment he awoke to the clanging of a baton onto the prison cell bars -if he didn’t wake from night terrors- to the moment he fell unconscious from the anguish he endured and when he grew tired of weeping and pleading for his tormentors to stop and had to be dragged to the filthy floor of his jail cell. Then had to hear the screams of his fellow inmates as they were punished with the same harsh treatment he endured.

—————————————

Corvo had befriended a man in prison by the name of Mishaal, and unfortunately he was greeted with a horrible fate. One night, Corvo witnessed Mishaal thrown out his cell brutally, kicked until his face was covered with soot and grime, stabbed messily until his guts had torn out and the floor was pooled with the blood of his friend.

Corvo could not do anything but helplessly cry and plead for the guards to stop. Whether they cared to stop or not, they wouldn’t have heard him beg over Mishaal’s shouting. After they had disfigured his friend’s body enough, he was taken to the interrogation room for his his second torture session for the day.

His cries echoed from the interrogation room into the prison hallways, the rest of the prisoners hearing Corvo’s screams ringing in their heads. His requests for the sadistic guards who laughed at his suffering to stop the torture were not heard, much less heeded, and his bruised, bloodied, and beaten body laid on the floor with his wounds beginning to infect. Needless to say, Corvo wasn’t able to find peace nor rest that night.

—————————————

In a world somewhere, a dark void– was a man with pitch-black eyes. The people had called him the Outsider. He never did much, for his entire life had consisted on prying on mortal affairs. How humans looked pathetic. Fighting for opulence, reputation, status, and other material things. He watched it all with a smug expression painted on his face, and a self-satisfied smirk stretched out on his thin, white lips.

On a stormy night, the Outsider had created a vessel for himself to visit the mortal world. A vessel made of whalebone and rotting flesh. He couldn’t go directly; he wasn’t something physical. He was a void; he couldn’t make something out of nothing.

He never actually visited an actual human. He had always seen them as pathetic creatures that didn’t know anything other than to destroy. Whenever he came to the mortal realm, he had always liked to sit by a dark, shadowy place in the docks and listen to the whales.

The song of the whales was marvelous. It sounded like a deep moan of pain, mixed with a mantra of some sort. It was pleasant, calming to the Outsider’s ears. The sound of the whales with the waves crashing against the dock was heavenly and was a better change than the bristling wind of the Void.

Suddenly, the sound of a man’s cry had filled the silence that followed the whales’ ballad, sending a shiver down the Outsider’s spine. It was as if the whales begun to sing again, and he was astonished at how a mortal had released such bewitching, magnificent sounds.

He found the source of the cry, eventually leading him to a cold, grimy prison. He watched from a tiny window as a tall man was stripped from his dignity, his shirt being torn violently by a guard. The man was obviously hurting, struggling and thrashing hoping for the guards to stop battering him, which they didn’t. They left his limp body on the floor after pissing on him, cracked jokes and made degrading comments about him in his presence. The guards had thought he was unconscious, and the man could only wish he was. The sight of such a beautiful man having his clothes torn off, being struck by a whip, it had ached his cold heart, yet gave a tightening sensation in his crotch as well; and the Outsider could not bring himself to intervene.

Because he could only watch. Watch and observe the chains of destiny unravel themselves. It’s all he ever did, and all he ever will do.

—————————————

The last day of his sixth month of imprisonment. The day he was set to meet his demise, the end of his life. The day he was set to be beheaded, his blood staining the ground as people cheered to start dismembering him too.

Corvo woke up on his bed for a change. His meal was given slightly warmer, with an additional slice of fresher bread and cleaner water. Inedible, but definitely better than what he had for the past six months. Under his dish of grits however, he found a letter and key. Addressed to him.

Hello Corvo  
It doesn’t matter who we are right now. Just know that you can trust us.  
Take this key, and find your way into the sewers. By the end of the way, you’ll find equipment, and a man by the name of Samuel.  
We’re your only hope in getting out of this prison.

Corvo thought about it for a moment. A moment that turned to hours.

Hours which passed as he stared into the dirty brick wall and rats crawling at his ankles, his eyes so lost he didn’t notice a man standing behind him.  
Corvo had no idea to where to begin describing him. He had sharp regal features, a stubble beginning to form on his angular chin. He couldn’t be younger than his late twenties, but Corvo spied extremely dark circles around his even darker eyes.

Oh, how he couldn’t begin to describe his eyes. Dark and gleaming, but not in the way that a marble gleams. No, it was like under that gleaming layer, a deep abyss existed. Corvo feared if he looked too long, he’d literally get lost in the void which were the man’s eyes.

“Hello, dear Corvo.” the man said in a condescending attitude. His voice was deep and had a tone of royalty. Corvo felt weaker in front of him, however it wasn’t the same weakness he felt in front of the prison guards. It was more like he had found his salvation, his savior. Like a god he had to submit to. He pushed away the pressure to, however.

“Today is the end of your story. Corvo, I’d like to ask you,” he said, circling around Corvo like a predator observing their prey. He was almost a head taller than Corvo, and had a lean build but broad shoulders. “Do you really want to end it like this?”

“Do you want to end your story, with your name tainted with murdering the empress for the rest of history? Won’t you fight against the injustice that was brought upon you?” The man persuaded.

He looked into Corvo’s strong but sad features, and found himself lost in his brown doe-like eyes. They were beautiful, but told a story of a man who suffered much agony and pain.

“What a waste... You were beautiful, then magnificently broken, torn apart. Yet the scars of your battles added to your beauty.” The man had pondered out loud, letting his cold hand run over Corvo’s cheek.

“No matter.” The man flicked his hand, and a mark started to burn and draw itself onto Corvo’s hand, the first warmth Corvo felt in months. It burned badly, but Corvo allowed himself to indulge in the warmth he felt at the moment.

“I am the Outsider, and this is my mark. Consider it a little gift from me. I await to see great things about you, my dear.” He gruffly said, his deep tone sending shivers down Corvo’s spine, and he was sure it wasn’t just from the cold winter air. The Outsider flicked his wrist, and disappeared in the blink of an eye.

He eyed the rusty key of his cell, then the black mark on the back of his hand. Then looked at the guards outside his cell, opening bottles of whiskey and rum, hoping to drown their grief.

He decided to say farewell to his inmates, and pray to whoever’s above that the blood of his adversaries will remedy his sorrow, and the adventure soon to come will fade the memories from this horrible place to somewhere long forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> please review? i dont know if i should continue writing.


End file.
